


Symbiosis

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist





	Symbiosis

## Symbiosis

by JM Griffin

* * *

SYMBIOSIS  
by J. M. Griffin 

Blair woke to the sting of cold sleet on his face. He groaned and rolled over, careful not to move his mangled right hand. The pain the simple movement caused made his head spin, so he closed his eyes. There wasn't anything to see anyway. Just grey sky and a greyer landscape. The drab greyness reflected his life since Jim's disappearance. 

"Blair," the voice in his ear was urgent, beckoning, but it wasn't Jim's so he ignored it. 

"Damn it all. You people get over here now!" the voice roared. Gentle hands turned him over, but he kept his eyes closed. The sleet melted as it hit his face and mingled with the tears there. 

The smell of cigar smoke rose in his nostrils as he was hefted up into strong arms. Simon. From the beginning Captain Banks had assured him Jim would be found and at first Blair had believed him. He had seen how much the captain could get done with only a glance, an order. He had almost believed Simon Banks could do anything, get anything done. But days had passed and then a week and still Jim had not been found and nothing Simon had been able to do had changed that. 

Still Blair had kept faith. Until this morning when the search team had found Jim's blood soaked coat up in Cascade Pass. Then Blair had given up hope. 

* * *

"Spiral fracture of the ulna and multiple fractures of the second and third meta carpus in four digits. What the hell did he connect with?" 

"A brick wall." 

"You mean he slammed his fist into a brick wall with enough force to do all this?" 

"More than once. He wasn't exactly sober." 

Blair heard the conversation through a haze. It had been a stupid thing to do, he knew. Breaking up his hand wouldn't help bring Jim back, but the physical pain had helped suppress the mental anguish - for a time anyway. Alcohol just hadn't been enough. At least now the drugs they were giving him for the pain in his hand and arm kept the most painful thought at bay -- the thought that he had killed Jim. 

* * *

"Twenty four hours only. That's what the insurance covers, Captain Banks. Isn't there someone who could watch out for him for a day or two? I'd like to release him by noon today." 

"I haven't been able to get in contact with his mother. She's the only family he's got. And his partner... Well, it's the loss of his partner that's turned him into this mess." 

Partner. Though Blair was trying desperately not to hear the conversation going on over his head, that one word snuck in and stung him. 

In the beginning, Jim wouldn't call him partner. The big detective had resisted everything connected with partnership. Even when Blair had moved into his apartment, Jim had held himself aloof. 

Then one day instead of calling him "Chief" or Kid" or "Junior," Jim had said "Partner" and been easy with it. Occasionally, he would even _introduce_ Blair as his partner. And the anthropology student com police observer, had found he liked it, loved it even. As he found he loved Jim. Loved him with a longing so deep he was scared to name it even to himself only allowing himself the luxury of feeling it late at night when he could not get to sleep, when Jim was asleep. He would sit on the couch and think, listening all the while to Jim's soft snoring up in the loft. Wondering if he was nuts to feel the way he did about this man. 

And no matter how hard he tried, Blair could think of no way to broach the subject that wouldn't harm the delicate partnership he did have with Jim. So he had kept his feelings to himself, until one Saturday afternoon Jim slipped and called him "Lover." 

//Blair turned to look at the other man, knowing his face was broadcasting his every feeling, hoping against hope Jim wouldn't shrug him off. When Jim didn't move, Blair stepped in close. Taking a deep breath, he went up on his toes and kissed the cop. Much to his surprise, Jim moaned softly and kissed him back. 

Blair melted against the taller man, feeling the deep ache of need in his own groin, feeling Jim's own physical response. Blair slid a hand between them, caressed Jim's hardening cock. To his delight, Jim pressed against his hand, put an arm around him. Blair flicked his tongue in the bigger man's sweet warm mouth. He wanted... Oh god, he wanted nothing more than for this to go on forever. 

Then Jim made a sound deep in his throat and pulled away. Blair sank to his knees, mouth open, but at a loss for words. And Jim turned away, grabbed his coat and left before Blair could get up off his knees.// 

Blair came out of his reverie, feeling warm tears tickling into his hairline, dripping cold over his ear. Light fingers brushed them away. 

"I can find a room for him up in Psych if you want," the doctor offered casually. Even in his drug-induced state, the words made Blair's blood run cold. 

"No, no," Simon's gruff voice saved him. "I know a place he can stay." 

* * *

"Simon, Simon. No. Just take me to the loft. You don't have to do this." Blair pleaded as Simon drove them through rush hour traffic toward his condo. 

"Blair, shut up." Simon said, but the younger man kept up his litany. God, the kid talked too much. Simon wondered how Jim stood it. Blair's protestations had begun in the hospital as soon as he realized where Simon was planning to take him and hadn't stopped since. "Enough!" Simon bellowed finally and Blair stopped mid word. 

The younger man turned his face toward the window and Simon swore to himself when he saw the glint of tears slipping down off Blair's jaw line. Damn. How in hell could he help this kid? Jim had been gone 8 days. Far longer than anyone had expected when he had been reported missing. An arctic storm had delayed rescue attempts, but when the weather had finally let up, Ellison had not been among those discovered trapped in Cascade Pass. Simon couldn't figure why he had been there in the first place. It didn't fit with what he knew. And if Blair or anyone else knew otherwise, they weren't telling. 

"Sandburg," Simon said as they rolled up into the parking garage of his condominium and pulled into his designated slot. "Blair, pull yourself together and listen to me." Banks was relieved when Sandburg swiped at his eyes with his uncasted hand and turned to look levelly at him. 

"Yeah?" 

"Don't do this to yourself, kid. We don't know for sure Jim is dead. We can't give up hope. 

"Simon, it's been two weeks." 

Banks held up his hand to stop any impending rush of words. "Eight days, Sandburg, I know. But something..." Simon swallowed and took a deep breath, "Something tells me Jim is still alive." 

"What?!" Blair's blue eyes were wide with amazement and Simon caught the painful flare of hope that flashed there. "Simon, what are you saying?" 

Banks squirmed uncomfortably. "I just don't think Jim's dead." 

"But his coat... The search team said..." Blair started, but Simon cut him off again. 

"I know. Believe me, I know how it looks, but..." Something tickled at the back of Simon's brain. He was missing something in all this angst. There was something he should be seeing and he wasn't. Simon sighed and opened his car door. "Let's get you inside and comfortable, then we'll talk some more." 

* * *

Simon's condo was ultra new and ultra geometric. Only the wood and brass humidor on one of the black laquer end tables spoke of Simon and his tastes. 

"Wow," Blair said as he took in the rather un-lived in looking living room. 

"I made the mistake of hiring an interior decorator to do it. I didn't want to be bothered. This is what I got." Simon waved a hand. 

"It's nice, really Simon," Blair tried to sound enthusiastic. 

"I hope you don't mind staying in Daryl's room." Banks led the way to his fifteen year old son's every other weekend abode. It was a typical teen's room, posters and CD player and general mess. 

Simon laughed at Blair's sigh of relief. He also saw the drawn look on the young man's face. 

"Sandburg, why don't you take some time to settle in and we can talk later." He thought Blair would object, but he didn't. He just lowered himself gingerly on the twin bed. 

Simon checked back about ten minutes later to ask what Blair would like for supper, only to find him sprawled on the bed fast asleep. 

"Doesn't look much older than Daryl," Bank's muttered to himself as he covered Blair with an afghan. He walked back into the living room and sat down on the coach. Suddenly he was very, very tired. Simon closed his eyes and let memory take him away. 

//"Simon, I've got to tell you something." 

Jim Ellison had shown up in Simon's living room the night before and, as he had not been sober, Simon had made him spend the night. Not so strange a thing in and of itself, but it was morning now and Jim was uncharacteristically fidgety. Simon knew his friend had something to say and that he'd eventually get to it, so he kept his own mouth shut and waited. 

"Simon..." 

"You already said that, Jim," Banks gave a wry smile. Most people thought of Detective James Ellison as big and bold and tough as nails. But Simon knew at the core his friend was a romantic with lots of walls erected to hide that very fact. And what Jim had to say, Simon had a feeling, was something very deep and very much at the center of Jim's being. He had wondered when and if Jim would come clean with it. It seemed the time was now. 

"Oh hell, Simon. I don't know where to begin." Ellison paced across the room and back. 

"Not at the beginning," Simon tossed out, trying to ease the tension. It was lost on Ellison. He kept pacing. 

"Jim, it's okay." Simon stepped over and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just say it." Jim looked down and away, and Simon thought for a moment he would bolt. 

"I'm in love with Blair." Jim blurted out. Simon had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. 

"I know." 

"I know what a problem this makes for you, but I couldn't just not... What?" Jim looked up and zeroed in on his captain and friend. "What?" 

"I know." Simon let himself smile as Jim's mouth gaped, his blue eyes wide with shock. 

"You _know_? Damn, Simon, am I that obvious?" Jim all but groaned. 

"Let's just say it's a good thing you're the kind of man who touches people often and easily, Jim. I noticed, but I've known you a long time. I doubt anyone else has." Simon explained. 

"You noticed what?" Jim seemed to be having trouble breathing. Simon went over to the table where breakfast was laid out, untouched. He poured two glasses of orange juice. 

"Here, drink this before you hyperventilate." He said putting a glass into Jim's hand. He didn't continue until Jim had taken a sip at the juice. "Okay Jim, you sure you really want to know?" 

"Yes," Jim nodded. 

"It's the way you touch him. You have a tendency to invade Blair's personal space - you reach out and touch his face, you stand between him and any threat - real or implied. You do not like it when others touch him." 

"God, am I that transparent?" Jim did groan this time. 

Simon chuckled. "Jim, I remember what you were like in the early days with Carolyn." 

Jim grimaced, "That bad." 

Simon took a sip of his drink. "That bad - and worse." 

Ellison threw himself onto the black leather couch, almost spilling his o.j.. 

"Have you told him?" Simon inquired. 

"Simon, Simon, doesn't this shock you?" Jim blurted out. "I just told you I was in love with another man." 

Banks shook his head, giving a small chuckle. "Jim, I've been a cop almost twenty years. Nothing much shocks me these days." 

"What are you saying?" Jim frowned. "This isn't a cop thing." 

"No, but as a cop I'm a student of human behavior. I know the fine line between love and sex. And the fine line between hetero and homosexuality. Jim, I've known you were bisexual for a long time. I know what broke you and Carolyn up." 

"Wha...?" Jim stood and walked over to the big window overlooking the city. "She told you?" He asked, staring out at the sleet blowing down on the city. 

"She told me some. Enough for me to put the rest together." 

"I loved her." 

"Yes, she knew that. She also knew it...," Simon hesitated. How to put this? "... wasn't enough." 

"I'm scared Simon. Scared of this with Blair. I don't want it to crumble like my relationship with Carolyn did." Jim turned away from the window, looking directly at Simon. "You are right in saying it wasn't enough \-- for her or me. I don't want it to be like that with Blair." 

"Jim. Good grief, man," Simon barked, "Don't you know anything about yourself?" Ellison looked so confused Banks took pity and spelled it out for him. "Blair is your Guide, fool. It will never be like you and Carolyn. I don't think I'm going out on a limb to say it _will_ be enough." 

Simon watched as Jim sat down heavily on the couch. "I take it you haven't told him." 

"I...," Jim swallowed hard. "Almost." 

"Jim, for Pete's sake, go home and tell the man you love him." Simon shook his head at all the nonsense. 

Jim cleared his throat. "I... What if..." 

Simon shook his head in amazement. "You really don't know, do you? You don't see it." 

"Know, what? See what?" 

It was Simon's turn to groan. "He loves you, Jim. With every fiber of his being. That, the others _have_ seen." 

Jim's blue eyes widened at Simon's words. He stood very still for a moment, his gaze turned inward. Simon watched him with a small smile on his face, saw the detective put it all together for himself. Then Jim nodded. He put the glass on the side table with a decided thunk. 

"Simon, thanks. I gotta go." He picked up his coat and was out the door before the captain could even respond.// 

* * *

...Blair was cold. It was snowing and he had lost his coat and couldn't feel his feet or hands. He was dying and he knew it, despite the shelter he had found. Despite the unexpected boon of the hunter's hidden larder, he was dying and... 

Blair woke with a shout, surprised to find himself in a place he didn't know. In a warm room, in an unfamiliar apartment. He had been so cold... 

Simon appeared at the door of the room. "Sandburg, you okay? You were shouting." 

Blair nodded, trying hard to hide the fact that he was shaking, that he still wasn't sure where he was. 

"You're at my place." Simon explained. "In Daryl's bedroom." 

Blair remembered then and sat up and turned away when unbidden tears welled up in his eyes. Damn, he couldn't seem to keep it together at all since, since... 

"Sandburg... Blair. Get hold of yourself." Simon took him by the shoulders and shook him so hard his teeth clicked together. "You can't help find Jim if you're a basket case." 

Blair looked up into Simon Banks' dark face. He was surprised to see so much hope in the captain's gaze. Blair didn't have any hope left. He had given up hope yesterday morning. Now he just wanted to die. 

"Blair Sandburg, you listen to me." Simon growled. "Jim is not dead. But he will be if you don't get hold of yourself and do something." The captain gave Blair another small shake. " _Jim is not dead._ " 

"How do you know?" His voice sounded small and childish even to himself. Blair cleared his throat. "How do you know?" 

"I just _know._ " Simon gave him one last shake. "And if you'd stop sniveling and _think_ you'd realize you know too." Simon sat back then and looked thoughtfully at the slight man on his son's bed. He knew yesterday's news had rocked Blair to his core. He knew Blair had given up. He found himself wondering why. Why was he so certain Jim was alive and Blair so certain he was dead? 

There was something wrong here. Blair, as Jim's Guide, should be the one to know. But something was clouding his vision, his inner sight. And suddenly Simon had an inkling what it might be. 

"What happened, Blair? What happened to make you so uncertain of things between yourself and Jim?" He pinned Blair with a look. 

Blair turned his face toward the wall, but Simon would have none of it. He took Blair by the chin and turned the young man's face back toward him. "No, don't hide. Tell me." He put the force of a command behind the words. 

"I... I... kissed him." Blair gulped. "I made a pass at him. And he didn't come home that night." 

"He was at my house that night," Simon explained. "Drunk as a skunk, yes. But in the morning, we talked. He loves you Blair. He told me. He left my place to go tell you. Of that I am sure." 

Simon meant the words to console, but Sandburg just hung his head, his long hair falling like a curtain between them. 

"That's the problem," Blair said barely above a whisper. "The next day Jim came by the university looking for me and saw me with a man. It wasn't what he thought, Simon. Just a chance meeting with an old lover. I was telling him no way. I swear. But Seth reached out and touched my face, kissed me. I backed away and caught sight of Jim leaving. I called out to him to wait, but he didn't stop." 

Simon could see Blair's train of thought. Sandburg believed his actions had killed Jim. He had sent Ellison running and because of what Jim had seen he'd headed out into the wilderness with out plan or purpose. Maybe Ellison had just thought to take a hike to clear his head, but the weather had turned lethal and Jim had become one of it's victims. 

"You think you killed him." Simon said softly. 

Blair's face was blanched, his lips trembled, but he wasn't crying. Dry-eyed, he nodded. 

It made sense in a convoluted sort of way, but Simon didn't buy it for a minute. "Blair," Simon said sternly, "you did not kill Jim." 

Now the tears welled up in Blair's eyes and spilled down his cheeks. Simon gathered the younger man up in his arms and held him while he cried, shushing him like he shushed his own crying son. Finally Blair's sobs abated. Simon held him a moment longer, then released him. Blair flopped back on the bed and shut his eyes. 

Suddenly it hit Simon what he had been missing all along. He didn't know why he hadn't seen it before today and he only hoped he wasn't too late. As sure as he knew Jim was alive, he knew Blair was the key to finding him. Simon shook his head. If only he had realized this sooner, he could have spared them all a lot of anguish. 

"Think, Blair." Banks said impatiently and Blair's eyes flew open. Sandburg sat up against the headboard. "Stop all this emoting and think \- for pity's sake. You're Jim's Guide, his touchstone. Turn off the emotion and go looking for him." 

Blair gave Simon a startled look. "But I have gone looking. I was out with the rescue crew the entire first week. _You're_ the one that made me come in. 

"Well, I was wrong." Suddenly another idea struck Banks. "Blair, what did you dream just now? Was it about Jim?" 

"No," Blair shook his head wearily. "No, I dreamed I was alone and hurt and cold. Really, really cold..." 

Blair's eyes were focused inward and Simon's heart leaped with hope. "Blair," He almost shouted. "What are you seeing? Describe your surroundings, describe the landscape. Where are you?" 

* * *

The cold wind blew in his face and Blair knew he was on the wrong track again. He had thought it would be so simple. He would just visualize where Jim was and tell the rescue team where to find him. It should have worked that way. It should have. But they'd been at the Pass five hours now and all he had found were blind leads. His arm ached fiercely and he was tired, so very tired. Blair sank to his knees in the snow and closed his eyes for a moment. 

"Oh no, you don't," It was Simon's voice in his ear. 

"Simon," Blair squinted in an effort to see the captain through the snow-laden wind. "I can't do it." He hung his head, exhausted and ashamed. 

Banks knelt in front of him, blocking the wind with his big body. "Oh yes, you can." 

"No, I can't" Blair sobbed, at the end of both his physical and emotional endurance. "Captain, _I'm_ not a Sentinel. I don't have any super sensory powers. I've tried. God, how I've tried, but I can't see him or hear him. The dream wasn't right. It just wasn't enough to go on." 

"Then don't use the dream, Blair. Just zero in on Jim." 

"How?" Blair shuddered as a finger of wind caught in his hair and ran down inside the neck of his parka. 

Simon reached over and pulled the parka's hood up and snugged it tight around Blair's face. 

"I don't know, but Blair, _you_ do. Stop and think. I've seen you in a number of desperate situations and you were able to put aside fear and pain and think clearly. Do it now," he commanded. 

"I can't." Blair wailed. 

"Why not?" Unrelenting, Simon took Blair's face in two hands and looked him square in the eye. "Because you love him? Blair, I've watched you though all this and it doesn't make any sense. You've loved Jim since the day you met him. Why allow it to immobilize you now? Because you feel guilty? Or maybe you don't really want to find him. Maybe you're too scared to face his anger... Or his love." 

Blair looked at Simon for a moment, puzzling out what the man had said. He did feel guilty. And scared. But that wasn't all of it. He just didn't trust himself not to botch it. 

The wind picked up and a member of the rescue team caught his eye, motioning at the darkening sky. Their window of opportunity was closing fast. Suddenly Blair could not _not_ try again. He could not go back down the mountain without Jim. 

He tucked down in his parka and blocked it all out the wind and cold, even Simon's hovering presence. Blair looked for Jim inside his mind. It took some time and effort, but eventually he found him. His Sentinel rested in a tiny golden place in his head. He saw then the slim thread that spun out from that place. Looked to find it was connected to... himself. He followed the thread and suddenly, in one brief clarifying sight, he _saw_ Jim, saw where he truly was, not so very far away. 

Blair surged up and away from Simon's sheltering body. Banks had to run to keep up as Blair scrambled over a snow-covered hillock and ran madly to the very edge of the steep trail. 

"There," Blair said gasping, pointing to a tiny ledge some twenty feet down the cliff side. "He's there." 

Simon signaled to the rescuers, ignored their raised eyebrows and insisted that, yes, they get the climbing ropes and belay a man down to the ledge. 

Jim was there, of course, but when Simon turned around to tell Sandburg, he found Blair passed out in the snow. 

* * *

As soon as the hospital let Blair loose, after diagnosing nothing more than dehydration and exhaustion, he headed straight for Jim's hospital room. Simon was there, sitting quietly in a chair pulled up close to the bed. Without a word, the captain abdicated his seat to Blair. 

"You okay, Sandburg?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Blair assured Simon, but he was glad to take the proffered chair as he was a bit wobbly, still not having been able to choke down a whole meal. "How's Jim? What did they say? I kept asking for information, but they wouldn't tell me anything." 

Simon hid a smile. A nurse had come to him asking what they could do to get Mr. Sandburg to calm down and eat. He'd told her to give it up and release him. It seems they'd taken his advice. 

"Jim will be fine. He's just sleeping now. He's got frostbitten toes and fingers and some broken ribs. The worst of it was the blow to the head. Seems he fell to the ridge when he was trying to walk out of the pass," Simon explained. "He was asking for you earlier." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." Just then Simon's cell phone went off and he answered it with a brisk, "Yes." A minute later he was pulling on his coat. "Duty calls." 

Blair looked at Simon beseechingly and Banks paused a moment on his way out the door. "Just tell him, Blair. He needs to hear it from your own mouth." 

"Tell me what?" A weak but unmistakable voice requested from the hospital bed. Blair spun back around in the chair to find Jim awake, a faint grin on his wind burned face. Unable to speak for the lump in his throat, Blair simply sat there. "Never thought I'd see you speechless, Chief." Jim quipped, his voice sounding creaky, unused. 

"Jim, I, I... " Blair stammered, but he couldn't finish. He jumped up, sending the chair skidding backward, and charged out of the room. He got about ten steps down the hall and stopped. He stood there, his thoughts racing. Thank god the corridor was deserted because if anyone saw him standing in the middle of the hall hyperventilating they were bound to think he was nuts. Stupid, stupid, fool that he was. Why was he so scared to tell Jim how he felt? 

Blair ran a shaky hand through his hair as he stood thinking. Jim had looked like hell when they'd finally maneuvered him up the cliff side in the stretcher. His face had been covered with dry blood from the scalp wound above his right eye, his polar fleece under-jacket was ripped and torn. Only semiconscious, he hadn't been able to say how he had lost his parka. 

Blair had ached to touch him, to enfold Jim in his arms and hold him close, but they had held him back. Simon had insisted the EMTs look him over too. In the end, he had been hustled into a separate ambulance and taken to the hospital for observation. 

He had been so happy they had found Jim was alive, so relieved that he had not killed his friend. So why was it he was scared shitless now? 

Slowly Blair turned and walked back to the bedroom. He entered hesitantly, not wanting to wake Jim if he had fallen back asleep, hoping maybe he had, so Blair wouldn't have to face him just yet. 

Jim's face was turned away from the door. Biting his lower lip self-consciously, Blair walked around the bed. He bumped the table tray with his hip as he rounded the end of the bed and, reaching out to steady it, he heard Jim's quick intake of breath. He looked over to find Jim's eyes brimming with tears. As Blair watched Jim brought up a bandaged hand to smudge away the incriminating evidence. Blair stood stock still at the foot of the bed, not entirely sure he wasn't dreaming. 

Blair took a quick breath, then spoke up. "Oh god, Jim. I'm so sorry." 

"It's okay. I'm the one who needs to apologize. I just wasn't thinking straight. I thought maybe... I had thought you..." Jim looked away, but not before Blair had seen the hurt that clouded the other man's face. Something broke inside Blair - the barrier he himself had erected when he had thought Jim dead. 

"Jim, Jim," Blair said softly, reaching out his uncasted hand and taking Jim's one unbandaged hand. "I've been so stupid, man. I've wanted to tell you I loved you for so long. That guy in my office was nobody, nothing. I can't believe what's happened to you because of my stupidity." 

Jim just looked at him, stared at him, really. Blair leaned down and, oh so gently, kissed Jim's chapped lips. He pulled away quickly at Jim's shuddering gasp, only to see tears streaming from the man's eyes. Blair's own eye's filled and he ran his fingers up Jim's damp cheeks gathering tears as they went; then lifted his hand to his mouth and tasted the salty wetness. 

* * *

The air was crisp and bitingly cold, but Blair stood barefoot on the balcony of the loft staring into the night sky. It had been a long, awkward day. First, he had picked Jim up from the hospital and driven him home. Next came the long afternoon when Jim had mostly slept and Blair had mostly hovered, listening to the comforting sound of Jim's light snores. Then they'd had a quiet dinner, watched some TV and gone to their respective beds. 

Unable to sleep. Blair had spent the next several hours tossing and turning. From the upper area of the loft there had been no sounds at all. Finally, Blair had given up trying to sleep and padded around the loft, eventually ending up on the balcony, gazing at the star-laden winter sky. 

"Blair?" Jim's voice at the door made Blair start, but he didn't turn. Jim came from behind and slipped his arms around Blair's waist, bent and softly kissed the top of his head. 

Blood pounded in Blair's veins, sang in his ears. Was he dreaming? 

"Come on, Chief. My bed's cold and I can't sleep. Come keep me warm." 

Blair turned in Jim's embrace and looked up into the taller man's face, unbelieving. He had spent all day and most of the night trying to keep his distance, trying to make sure Jim's return home after his hospital stay was calm and no pressure. The last thing he had expected was this. 

Jim looked down at him and chuckled. Blair felt the movement of Jim's broad chest and belly as the other man laughed. His own response was gut level and intense, spreading swiftly through his belly and groin. When Jim pulled him closer, Blair felt the warm fullness of Jim's erection through the cloth of his sweat pants. He couldn't help but gasp as Jim slid his hands under Blair's flannel shirt, pulling them closer still. 

Blair sighed and ran his hands under Jim's loose shirt and up his back, reveling in the feel of the taut flesh over hard muscle. He skimmed his hands up to Jim's shoulders. He didn't realize his eyes were closed until Jim dropped a soft kiss on one lid. 

"Jim..." he began opening his eyes to meet Jim's gaze.. 

"Hush Blair, it's my turn to talk." Jim drew away slightly and Blair shivered at the cold air that seeped into the gap between them, but he didn't take his eyes off the taller man. Jim looked down at him and a smile touched his lips. "I love you, Blair." 

Blair opened his mouth to respond, but Jim's mouth swooped down and captured his in a kiss that sent wildfire coursing from Blair's belly to his cock. Blair met Jim's kiss with equal force, delighting in the resulting tremor that ran through Jim's body. 

They parted moments later only to breathe, then met again to explore each others mouths with growing hunger. Finally Jim let up, giving Blair a teasing shove away. 

"Let's go inside, Lover. I don't want to be too cold ever again." 

Blair opened his mouth to speak, but Jim put a bandaged finger to his lips. 

"It's okay. Let's just go in." 

They went inside and up the stairs to Jim's bed in companionable silence, but when they collapsed on it Blair had to speak. 

"Jim, Jim..." He didn't want to cry. He felt he'd done enough of that lately, but tears filled Blair's eyes anyway. "I love you, man. I love you." 

Jim's answering smile was slow and warm and seductive as hell and banished any reason for tears from Blair's mind. 

* * *

End

 


End file.
